Mr. Prezident - G sh** lyrics

[Fes Taylor] I think I'm losing my f**ing mind, I grind For the purpose to get better, feel worse, when it's more cheddar It's more problems, more bottles of Grey Goose Diamonds in the Jesus, more violence than a KKK group Taylor Made boots, you won't find these anymore Only second pair, my son size kiddy wear Shootouts, knife fights, n***a, I was really there Port Richmond Avenue, n***as try to k** me there I was in the hospital, my n***as brought millies there Ya'll really show me who really care For that, I never turn my back, none of my n***as So you gon' die, pull a gun on my n***as Any one of my n***as, triggers is clutching And finger f**ing, he snitching, he kick the bucket Quicker than KFC stuffing Chicken hearted n***as ain't from the same litter I survived in this game, hell no, I ain't a quitter [Chorus 2X: Fes Taylor] I'm a muthaf**ing G, n***a I bang in the hood Son, that's why my sh** bang in the hood Like any block avenue say that I'm good n***as beef, you gon' spray 'em if you could [Mr. Prezident] I walk around like I'm hot sh**, rock wrists, cop fifth Look I'm fire, you hot piss, I pop six He a p**y, his face on a hot spit Call him my soda, he about to get his top twist I will not miss, S.I., I got this We gon' get it popping like juice when you fry fish I'm on my sh**, had to take the king route n***a disrespect me, I'mma try to blow his brains out Barrel shoot flames out, ya'll been lead astray This n***as' a** say p**y on his resume I give it to him all up in his head and face He ain't even high but I can make his a** levate I'm seeing extra cake, front lines, squeezing shots Fold his a** up, you would think he was a pizza box If I clap at cha, it's a wrap for ya They gon' have to get your face up with a spatula [Chorus 2X] [Shyheim] You don't wanna violate me, I take everything personal p**y, I shove you back in the p**y that birthed you This is me everyday, I don't go to rehearsals I smack you with this nine, and spin you round in a circle My bank account numbers, look like it's your social You on a mixtape scene, but your a** still local Try and G check me? You should be glad I ain't poke you n***a, you think you slick, trynna get me promote you But I'm hip to the game, and that move so old school You remind me of the old dudes, some bottle of Sisco Matter fact, you remind me of a blonder Sisqo I'm like the Yae area, you San Francisco Shy, bout that dollar like that 99 cent store Is your life insured? You best to make sure Originally came for peace, but prepare for war Where no talk at, muthaf**ing all and I rep that [Chorus 2X]